


Two Bags of Chips and I'll Race You There

by sunsetmog



Category: Radio 1 RPF
Genre: Chips - Freeform, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-07-28
Updated: 2005-07-28
Packaged: 2017-10-31 01:26:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/338378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunsetmog/pseuds/sunsetmog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Edith had spent the three quarters of an hour between Berwick and Edinburgh Waverley eating mint humbugs, talking about food and noisily eating a packet of cheese and onion crisps. </p>
<p>Colin had promised that when he felt well enough to lift his head off the table, he'd kill her. Slowly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two Bags of Chips and I'll Race You There

**Author's Note:**

  * For [abbichicken](https://archiveofourown.org/users/abbichicken/gifts).



> Originally posted [here](http://sunsetmog-fics.livejournal.com/21896.html) in July 2005.
> 
> Written as part of abbichicken's birthday present. Unreasonably long, because writing about Colin and Edith is about as much fun as you can have. Unashamedly all about chips.

"Are you hungry?" Edith asked, stretching like a cat. She yawned, still sleepy from the trip up. 

Colin raised an eyebrow. "Have you ever known me _not_ be hungry?" He rolled his shoulders, still stiff from ten hours on a GNER train. 

She laughed, remembering their overflowing Tesco carrier bags holding the remnants of their train snacks when they'd finally got off the train. Colin had managed to eat the majority of their food in the half hour she'd slept between Darlington and Newcastle. She'd woken up to him guiltily hiding two empty Pringles cans, what used to be a three-pack of BLT (extra mayonnaise) sandwiches, three Twix wrappers and chewing on the remains of the butter fudge. He'd spent the three quarters of an hour between Berwick and Edinburgh Waverley holding his stomach and moaning about feeling sick. Edith had spent the three quarters of an hour between Berwick and Edinburgh Waverley eating mint humbugs, talking about food and noisily eating a packet of cheese and onion crisps. 

Colin had promised that when he felt well enough to lift his head off the table, he'd kill her. Slowly. 

Edith had shaken her head and opened the twiglets, wafting them under Colin's nose. 

_I hate you_ , Colin had muttered, turning pale. 

_No you don't_ , Edith had replied, smiling. 

Trust her to know everything. 

And now they were in Anstruther, wandering along the front and lazily avoiding the hotel. It was karaoke night and frankly, Edith wasn't in the mood for singing. Colin had sensed her lethargy and hadn't pushed the issue any further than suggesting Moloko's 'sing _it_ back' for her opener. Edith had just shook her head and pushed him out of the door, telling her parents they'd be back later on— _just in time for her to do 'bridge over troubled_ water', Colin had yelled behind them—and headed down towards the harbour. 

Edith smiled contentedly, leaning back against the wall. The air smelled different up here, fresher and cooler and a little like she was clutching back for her childhood and coming up with a bizarre hybrid of London cool and Anstruther ease. It was quieter too, although the road was relatively busy and there were plenty of people about. Saturday night, after all. She loved London and would be bored out of her mind back up here, but there was still something intensely comforting about being back home. "Do you fancy chips?" She asked, nodding towards the chip shop. 

Colin grinned. "Chips. Yes. My kingdom for chips."

She shook her head, pushing him. "You're so cheap, Col." 

"Cheap? Me? Selling my kingdom for chips?" Colin laughed. "Practical, me. Open to persuasion. Not cheap." 

"Does that mean you're buying then?" 

Colin narrowed his eyes. He watched her for a moment, grinning and pulling her hat down over her hair, licking her lips and her eyes darting all over the bay. He was going to argue, going to persuade her to shell out the three quid for two bags of chips, but there was something about Edith this evening, something about the way she flicked her hair and pushed him off the path and kicked at pebbles. There was something about the way she looked tonight that made him stick his hand in his pocket and pass her a fiver, grin and say, "go on then, splash out, get us two cans of coke as well, and don't scrimp on the vinegar." 

If she noticed his uncharacteristic generosity, she didn't comment on it. She just laughed and scrunched the fiver up in her fist, elbowing him and offering him extra chips if her beat her to the chip shop. 

It wasn't that he let her win.

He just... didn't try his hardest. He accepted defeat with grace and dignity (calling her _little droid_ and pulling off her hat and holding it way above his head so she had to jump for it), and pushed her in the direction of the chips. They'd bypassed the chip shop on the end, up by the fisheries museum and the lifeboat station. It may have won awards (best chip shop in Scotland, 2001-2) but that just meant you had to queue half way down the street just to get a bag of chips on a Saturday night. Just because it was rumoured that it had been graced with the presence of Tom Hanks last April didn't mean that Edith was willing to join the queue as far down the street as the post office, so they'd headed for the other one, down at the other end of the road, stepped back from the street. "Go on," Colin told her, pushing her in. "I'm off for a slash." 

He shook his head, crossing the road to the public toilets. Something was off tonight, something was different about Edith. Something was different about _them._

Oh dear God, Colin realised, with a soft breath, he might joke about him and Edith, but tonight the joke was on him. 

There was a distinct possibility that he might fancy her. 

He pressed his forehead to the cool tile of the toilet wall, leaning over the urinal. He stayed there, berating his own stupidity until he was carefully brought down to earth by some scroaty teenager calling him a wanker and lobbing an empty coke can at his head. Well, it might look a little odd, him stood there holding his dick and seemingly asleep against the wall, but surely it didn't warrant the force of the throw. He might end up with a bruise. Sighing, he washed his hands and dried them on his jeans. 

Edith had bought them two bags of hot, salty, vinegary chips and two cans of irn bru. She was waiting for him, perched on the harbour wall with both bags in her lap, happily blowing on a too-hot golden brown chip. 

He noticed that she handed him the bag she'd been eating out of. 

Again, he said nothing, just accepting the bag without comment. 

She grinned, taking a bite of her hot chip before shrugging and standing up. They wandered down to the sand, leaning against the wall and watching the dark, limp waves edging their way up the beach. It was quiet down this end of the front; the tide was almost in and most of the evening racket happened down the other end anyway. Up by the lifeboat station, lights flashed and kids yelled and teenagers snogged in-between illicit cans of cider and the occasional ninety-nine with extra hundreds and thousands. 

Colin watched her as he ate, watched her smile and grin and thoroughly enjoy the bag of greasy, hot chips. Although, to be fair, watching Edith eat as if her life depended on it wasn't exactly a new experience; every single day in the studio she was at it, devouring toast and bags of hula hoops and curly wurlys and sending out the producer for bags of pick and mix. She'd started the trend for running for hot crumpets and jam whilst the bad songs were playing, the ones that were on the playlist despite being god-awful shite, and she'd been behind the Haribo Olympics (which had included a three page list of rules and illegal moves) and the ill-fated eat a sausage sandwich without using your hands during the 2.30 news competition. Edith had beaten them all hands down, which had been all very well until she'd accidentally met the controller of Radio 1 by the disabled toilets, absolutely covered in ketchup. The controller had almost had a coronary, and Edith had toned down the food competitions in recent weeks. 

"Good chips?" Edith asked finally, savouring the salt and vinegar aftertaste. She wet her finger against her lip, dabbing it against the inside of the grease-stained bag, catching the salty remnants and licking it. 

"Bang-on chips." Colin told her, nudging her with his knee. 

She laughed, nudging back. "You must have been hungry," she said, "You've hardly said a word." 

"I was speechless in the face of good chips," he grinned, taking a bite of his last one. "Had nothing to say that wasn't _chips, chips how I worship thee oh chips of greatness._ Which would have made me sound a bit weird, come to think of it." 

She cocked an eyebrow. " _Oh chips of greatness_? Nah, mate, that makes you sound completely sane." 

"Told you." 

Her grin took on a wicked glint. 

If Colin had been on top form tonight, and hadn't been too busy trying to decide if he did actually want to see Edith naked, or whether it was just a temporary aberration caused by too many Pringles and not enough sleep, he would have realised that the wicked glint could only have terrible repercussions for his last remaining half a chip. Her hand darted out. 

He blinked. Mouthed a little. Tried to speak. Failed. Tried again. "Did you—Edith, friend—just pinch _my last chip_?"

Edith, who was chewing slowly, reflectively, meditatively, shook her head. "No, you just ate it and didn't notice." 

"Oh, oh, oh." Well, at least, Colin reflected, he'd regained the power of speech. "You, you-" obviously not enough for sentences, however. He shrugged, watching her grin across at him, eyes bright and mischievous. She thought she'd won. Colin smiled slowly. _So_ not the case. 

With a war cry worthy of its own Bafta, Colin launched himself at Edith, dropping his greasy chip wrapper onto the sand in the same fluid movement. Caught on the hop, Edith didn't have time to move, and so ended up flat on the sand, arms in the air. Colin straddled her, pinning her arms to the sand. 

The air smelt of seaweed. 

"You stole my last chip," Colin said pleasantly, his grip tightening on her wrists. "Now you have to pay." 

"I didn't _steal_ ," Edith said petulantly, shifting her hips, "I just took what you would only have offered me, given another minute. I just pre-empted your intentions, that's all." 

Colin raised an eyebrow. "And just how did you work that one out? I wouldn't have given you my last chip if you were the last woman on earth. Edith, I want my chip back and I want it _now_." 

Edith grinned, looked up at him and promptly stuck her tongue out. 

Her tongue, and the chewed remains of Colin's last chip. 

"That is fucking _revolting_ ," Colin howled. She closed her mouth, grinning. 

"Come and get it then, if you really want your chip back." she goaded him, sticking her tongue out again. 

She thought she'd won. 

There was a pause, just long enough for Colin to realise what he was about to do and not long enough for him to stop himself. " _Fine_." He said, and pressed his mouth to Edith's. 

Her surprise was evident in the muffled _Col_ she exhaled against his mouth. 

_Shit_. He pulled away, sitting back on his haunches, resting down against her hips. He let go of her wrists, effectively unpinning her. He didn't say anything, just watched as she struggled on to her elbows. 

"You just kissed me," she said, eventually, swallowing the chewed remains of Colin's last chip.

"It hardly counts as a kiss," Colin told her, "I've had more sexual experiences with my old maths teacher. That was just-" he stumbled over the words, "accidental mouth touching." 

"That was _not_ accidental mouth touching, that was a kiss." 

"I was trying to get my chip back," Colin defended himself, feeling very stupid all of a sudden. "You _stole_ my chip."

Edith blinked. Her hair swung loose into the sand. "Yeah, and you _kissed_ me." 

"It was hardly a kiss," Colin reiterated. "It probably doesn't even count." 

"Oh my god," she said finally, "Col, you fancy me!"

Colin let out a deep breath. "I do not." 

Edith laughed. "Do so." 

"Don't." Colin said, sulkily. This would be half way round the Radio 1 DJs before the following morning. 

"You _do_. Oh, I can't believe it. You. Fancy. Me." 

"I _don't_." Colin was exasperated. What he might or might not have felt towards Edith in the past few hours hardly counted as fancying her. It was just _different_ , that was all. Probably being out of London had fucked with his head. Made him insane.

Edith smirked. "You do. I'll prove it." 

"You can't prove it," Colin shook his head, "because it isn't true."

"Fine. Prove me wrong." 

Something about the malevolent smile on Edith's face didn't bode well for Colin, and he knew it. 

Edith grinned, raised an eyebrow at him and reached for his cock through his jeans. She cupped him lazily with one hand.

"What the _fuck_ are you playing at?" Colin tried to pull away, but she grabbed his wrist with an iron grip. 

"You get hard, you fancy me." 

"Edith," Colin was trying to pull away, desperation clear in his voice, "I can get hard _on the bus_ if I'm horny enough. This is not a fair test." He was struggling against her grip, trying to stand up and get as far away from her as he could. This wasn't fair. He was going to get hard, and she was going to _know._ He couldn't help it, he could feel himself hardening beneath her hand. He stared down at her, biting his lip in horror. "Edith, please."

"Oh my god." Edith dropped his arm and pulled away. 

His erection pushed against his jeans. 

Colin took the excruciating opportunity to scramble up to his feet and turn around, facing the sea. "I'm sorry," he said hurriedly, "I _told_ you." He blushed red, willing his erection to subside. Except... the memory of Edith's hand on his cock was not one that Colin could disregard so damn easily, and he couldn't forget how it had felt, no matter how embarrassing this evening was turning out to be. 

"You really _do_ fancy me," Edith said, suddenly, somewhere behind him. 

"I really _don't_." Colin said desperately. "I told you, it can happen anywhere, it wasn't _you_."

"I saw the way you looked at me just now," Edith said. "I'm not an idiot." 

"You are." Colin was frantic, this was _ridiculous_. 

"Admit it, and I'll let you kiss me again." 

Colin swung round. "What?" 

"Admit you fancy me."

"Edith- I-" he stopped. "Why do you want to know?"

She shrugged, a shadow in the darkness. "Because you've just kissed me, and now you're hard, and I want to know."

Colin closed his eyes. His heart was beating at double its normal speed and his erection was showing no sign of subsidence. "Alright," he said finally, dully. "I do. Ok? I really do." He kicked at the sand with the toe of his trainer. "Happy now?" 

There was silence for a moment.

"I didn't really think—even then, when I grabbed you—that you did." Edith coughed, uncomfortable. 

"Yeah, well." Colin shrugged. "I didn't really know myself." But it was true. He'd _wanted_ to be kissing Edith. He'd wanted it more than he'd thought possible. He still wanted it. "But I do, all the same. Fancy you, I mean." If this evening was going to be humiliating, it might as well be doubly so. 

"I showed you my half-chewed chip," Edith said after a long moment, somewhat disbelieving. 

Colin raised an eyebrow. "What?" 

"I stuck my tongue out," Edith repeated, "and showed you what I'd been chewing." 

"Yes." Colin blinked. "I was there, remember?"

"It was disgusting," Edith continued. 

Colin was beginning to look confused. "Yeah, but-" he stopped. "Eid, you just grabbed my cock, and the bit you're fixating on is the _chip_? I've seen you do much more revolting stuff. I've seen you burp along to _Wonderwall._ " 

"Oh god," Edith breathed. "I'd forgotten that." 

" _And_ I've seen you throw up." 

"And that," Edith said faintly. "Oh god." 

Colin narrowed his eyes, comprehension dawning. "Edith," he said finally. "Do you fancy me too?"

" _No_ ," Edith said, far too fast. 

"You do. That's why you're so embarrassed." 

"Do not." 

"Oh, not this again. Can we just skip to the part where you say you fancy me?" 

Edith eyed him with something bordering on distaste. "Col, listen to me. Believe me when I say that you are the _last_ man on this earth I'd even consider kissing, and I certainly don't fancy you, not in the slightest." 

Colin grinned. "That'll be a _yes_ then." He took a step closer. His arm brushed Edith's. 

"It is _not_ a yes," Edith said, affronted. "I'd rather kiss Dave Lee Travis."

"Uh-huh." Colin smoothed a lock of sandy blonde hair behind her equally sandy ear. "That's showing your age," he said, mildly. 

She harrumphed. 

"You're really quite unreasonably beautiful when you're not pouting," he told her. His thumb grazed her jawbone.

Edith blinked. "You're not bad looking yourself, when you're not looking so smug," she said, eventually. 

He coughed. "Is that it?" he asked. "You get _unreasonably beautiful,_ and all I get is _not bad looking_?" 

There was a moment before Edith looked up at him, a moment when he might still have been able to kid himself he didn't have feelings for her. But then she looked across at him, and she smiled. 

And his world turned upside down. 

"It's true," she said, and she pressed the heel of her hand against his breast bone, feeling for his heart beat. "You're not bad looking." 

"Thanks," he said, finally. His hand shook. 

"Are you going to kiss me any time soon?" Edith asked, all of a sudden. Her arm curled around his neck.

Colin swallowed. His thumb stilled against her cheek. "I thought you didn't want me to," he said hoarsely, "I thought you didn't fancy me."

She shrugged. "Well," she said. "I do." 

Colin kissed her, his arms sliding around her back, feeling sand beneath his fingers as she kissed him back, her hands in his hair. She tasted like chips, salty and vinegary and golden-brown. She kissed him hesitantly at first, meeting his tongue with her own, pressing against him and holding on tighter as he kissed her harder. 

He pulled away for breath a minute later, wondering how he'd ever got this far without realising she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever met. 

Edith looked up at him, all swollen lips and dark eyes. She shrugged. "Not bad," she told him, fighting a grin, "You'll pass." 

He laughed, pushing her. "You just showed me a half-eaten chip," he reminded her, "you don't get to have an opinion for a while." 

She smiled, touching the side of his face with a hesitant thumb. "You're pretty good looking, actually," she told him, grinning up at him. 

"Ok, ok." He grinned back, nudging at her nose with his own. "I was just about to demote you to passably attractive, and now I don't have to."

"Oh, I am glad," Edith told him. He could feel her breath on his lips, warm and sweet and reminiscent of chips. "I'd hate to be just passably attractive when I could be unreasonably beautiful." 

He shrugged. "You are, you know." 

"Passably attractive?"

"Unreasonably beautiful." 

"You too," she said, quietly, and the world shifted on its axis a little. She kissed him, softly. 

Colin breathed into the kiss, warmth flooding him as he kissed her back. 

She pulled away, biting her lip. "Colin," she said, and her voice wavered. 

Colin stilled. "Yes?" he asked, unsure.

"Are you hungry?" She grinned. "Because I'm starving and I really fancy a snickers. And a bag of malteasers."

Colin laughed, and followed her up the beach.


End file.
